


Hypothetical Therapist

by cognitioncorsair



Category: Orbiting Human Circus of the Air (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, alcohol mention, i cry ever time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 23:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8597425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cognitioncorsair/pseuds/cognitioncorsair
Summary: Julian is crying and John can't help but want to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon on Tumblr asking if I could write about Julian talking about his childhood. Yes, anon, yes I can.

“Julian, what in god’s name are you doing?”

Julian looked up, tears in his eyes. “Just sweeping the halls, Mr. Cameron,” he sniffed. “But I can leave if you want…”

John crossed his arms. “You’ve been standing in the same spot for ten minutes; I’ve been watching you. Not that you noticed me standing five feet in front of you this whole time,” he muttered. “Anyways, you’re getting tears all over my floors. So, just,” he said, waving his hand in the air. “Stop crying.”

Julian wiped at his cheek, seeming surprised to find it wet. “I’m really sorry Mr. Cameron.” He looked back down and continued sweeping the same patch of floor, tears still streaming down his face. John stood watching him, growing more frustrated.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he said, looping his arm through Julian’s and pulling him through the door which he had been leaning against. Julian squeaked as his broom clattered to the floor and he found himself suddenly in a small room containing only a couch and an armchair facing each other.

John maneuvered the janitor onto the couch and took the chair himself. “Julian, if we talk about whatever’s making you cry, will you stop?”

Julian looked around nervously. “What- what’s this room for?”

John cleared his throat. “It’s, um, it’s for when certain people, people who live in this tower, feel the need to hire a therapist to work through some of their, uh, deeper mental problems, and they want a quiet place for that purpose.”

“I’ve never done-“

“Well obviously I wasn’t talking about you, Julian!” John took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter, because even though that person still has many issues that they need to deal with, right now we’re focusing on your issues, so that you can get back to work and I can get back to dri- what I was doing before.”

“Mr. Cameron, are you drunk?”

John laughed. “Nowhere near as drunk as I could be, kid.” He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “So… Julian… why exactly…. were you crying?”

Julian stared at his lap. “I don’t know, guess I was just thinking about when I was a kid. One of the songs you played on the show today, one o’ the ones by that Jewish guy. My stepdad used to listen to it a lot, and it just kinda reminded me of that. Of him. And then the memories just kinda came, and didn’t go away.”

John leaned forward, looking a lot soberer than he did a minute before. “I- I suppose I know how you feel.”

Julian head snapped up, staring at him. “You do? Really?”

He sighed. “I’m sure you don’t know this, I don’t exactly sit around in the air ducts telling my life story when people are trying to sleep. But I haven’t exactly had the easiest life either, Julian. And I have a few- fuck, what did my, err, hypothetical therapist call them- triggers? As well.”

“Really?” Julian said again. He reached out, putting his hand on John’s knee. “I’m really sorry.”

John pushed him away, scowling. “What’re you doing? I’m fine, you’re the one who’s crying in my hallway.”

“Well, I just, you look pretty sad too.”

“I’m fine,” he growled. “Can we go back to fixing you?”

Julian stared at the bare wall behind John’s head. “Did you run away from home?”

John stared at him. “What?”

“I ran away from home, when I was a little kid. I lived in Germany, and I just, I got on a train to Paris, and I found my great-grandpa who lived here. And then he died, and I got a job, and, y’know, came here. After a while. But it started with me running away.”

John was silent for a minute, contemplating the janitor’s words. “Yes. I did.”

Julian dropped his face into his hands, sniffling. “It’s awful, isn't it. Life. All you, all I wanna do is do a radio show, and my stepdad just, just hit me.” He shivered. “So much blood.”

“That’s- that’s-“

He heard rustling, and footsteps, and a weight settled next to him. Next thing Julian knew there were arms wrapped around him and he was crying into John’s shoulder.

“I can still feel my ear hurting,” he whispered, focusing on the ringing which had been present for the last twenty years.

John rubbed his back, a tear running down his face. “My family never cared about me, but… they never hurt me like that. I’m sorry.” Julian buried his face deeper in the host’s dressing gown.

Suddenly the door opened. “John, are you almost ready? Ze show starts in ten- oh. I apologize, I will leave ze the two of you. Just be ready to go, oui?” Leticia left, smiling to herself.

He sighed. “I should probably go get dressed,” he said, making no move to untangle himself from the smaller man.

Julian hiccupped. “Maybe- just another minute?” he asked hopefully.

John smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy, I made myself sad. For some reason the saddest thing to me is him having tinnitus (ringing in the ears) all these years later. It's like a constant reminder of the abuse he endured :/
> 
> Come cry with me @ rotatinghumancircus.tumblr.com


End file.
